The boy of the past
who lived in a home
where comforts were seldom
and while left alone
he’d cry for his mother
who stayed out all night
after her shift
she’d head for the light
of houses tucked away
in the cities and towns
to smoke up her poison
and then run around
a little bit longer
to hit up the bars
laughing and lounging
while leaving the scars
on the boy left alone
at home with his tears
his anxiety and racing heart
his thoughts and his fears
She never came home
one night after partaking
in the temporary pleasures
and upon her boy waking
to the knock at the door
the boy thought she was home
and all his pain left
His hurt was now gone
but the policeman brought sorrows
The boy learned of her death
but he was already dying
and with what he had left
he lost all control
and the same path began
Just like his mother
he did not give a damn
He hung out in the houses
in the cities and towns
He lived at the bars
and kept himself down
He went home one night
and found himself alone
just like he had been
before he had grown
He took all the pills
and finished the booze
and left the world peacefully
with nothing to lose
